The Yellow Claw eBook

“Mille tonnerres! he has escaped me!”
he cried aloud, and the words did not seem of his
own choosing.

Who had escaped? Someone—­man
or woman; rather some thing, which, yellow handed,
had sought to murder him!

Max ran across to the second trap and looked down
at the woman whom he knew, beyond doubt, to be Mrs.
Leroux. She lay in her death-like trance, unmoved.

Strung up to uttermost tension, he looked down at
her and listened—­listened, intently.

Above the fumes of the apartment in which the woman
lay, a stifling odor of roses was clearly perceptible.
The whole place was tropically hot. Not a sound,
save the creaking of the shelf beneath him, broke the
heavy stillness.

XXXIX

THE LABYRINTH

Feverishly, Max clutched at the last three books upon
the shelf adjoining the gap. Of these, the center
volume, a work bound in yellow calf and bearing no
title, proved to be irremovable; right and left it
could be inclined, but not moved outward. It masked
the lever handle of the door!

But that door was locked.

Max, with upraised arms, swept the perspiration from
his brows and eyes; he leant dizzily up against the
door which defied him; his mind was working with febrile
rapidity. He placed the pistol in his pocket,
and, recrossing the room, mounted up again upon the
shelves, and crept through into the apartment beyond,
from which the yellow hand had protruded. He
dropped, panting, upon the bed, then, eagerly leaping
to the door, grasped the handle.

“Pardieu!” he muttered, “it is unlocked!”

Though the light was still burning in this room, the
corridor outside was in darkness. He pressed
the button of the ingenious lamp which was also a
watch, and made for the door communicating with the
cave of the dragon. It was readily to be detected
by reason of its visible handle; the other doors being
externally indistinguishable from the rest of the
matting-covered wall.

The cave of the dragon proved to be empty, and in
darkness. He ran across its polished floor and
opened at random the door immediately facing him.
A corridor similar to the one which he had just quitted
was revealed. Another door was visible at one
end, and to this he ran, pulled it open, stepped through
the opening, and found himself back in the cave of
the dragon!

“Morbleu!” he muttered, “it is bewildering—­this!”

Yet another door, this time one of ebony, he opened;
and yet another matting-lined corridor presented itself
to his gaze. He swept it with the ray of the
little lamp, detected a door, opened it, and entered
a similar suite to those with which he already was
familiar. It was empty, but, unlike the one which
he himself had tenanted, this suite possessed two
doors, the second opening out of the bathroom.
To this he ran; it was unlocked; he opened it, stepped
ahead... and was back again in the cave of the dragon.